


Long Days and Blanket Nests

by gooddadstan



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bruce’s friends want him to sleep, Dick’s friends want him to sleep, Gen, Jason’s only there a little bit I’m sorry, Sleep Deprivation, They nap together, Tim’s friends want him to sleep, alfred knows what’s up, batman bingo 2020, blanket nest, they get to be a family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22259998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooddadstan/pseuds/gooddadstan
Summary: Arkham breakouts were bad. Rogue level breakouts werereallybad. Gotham knew it, the bats knew it, even theJustice Leagueknew it, if just from the strickt instructions to not call on any bat within three days of returning all escapees to the cells. With a necessary exception of world ending circumstances, no matter how much everyone hated it.Unfortunately, these were world ending circumstances.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Tim Drake & Damian Wayne & Cassandra Cain, batfam - Relationship
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602346
Comments: 9
Kudos: 207





	Long Days and Blanket Nests

Arkham breakouts were bad. Rogue level breakouts were _really_ bad. Gotham knew it, the bats knew it, even the _Justice League_ knew it, if just from the strict instructions to not call on any bat within three days of returning all escapees to their cells. With a necessary exception of world ending circumstances, no matter how much everyone hated it.

Unfortunately, these were world ending circumstances.

According to the clock on the Batcomputer, it hadn’t even been an hour since they started the Do Not Call countdown in the Watchtower’s systems. Far too early for the emergency transmission to send alarms blaring through every bat-associated device the house.

Clicking the button for the video call to patch through, they’re met with a disheveled looking Flash with a grim expression on his face, no other leaguers in sight. 

“What.” The growl had been forming during the small loading period, but the Flash didn’t waver in his stance.

When he speaks just a second later, it’s sped up as much as he trusts the bats to understand. “Batman, the League needs your help. Send all available backup, you’ll meet Justice League Dark at the site..” He rattles off a set of coordinates and is gone again, the trail of his image heading off in the direction of the Zetas. 

Batman scans over his children, the wounds both new and days old being nursed in the medbay and the bodies flopped onto any surface they deemed comfortable enough to sleep on. More than half of them were just lying down on the floor, which, okay, but they’re children of a billionaire, they’re supposed to have _standards._ Apparently these standards don’t involve not sleeping on the floor in full vigilante gear.

Tim, looking up from his designated spot on the next chair over, makes very pointed eye contact with Bruce. A simple nod is all that meets him. Already mourning the loss of a relaxing afternoon filled with cartoons, sleep, and lots of food, he pulls up the League’s initial reports on the issue. The burning behind his eyes was a later Tim problem. There’s not much there, but he sets to work as Bruce rises to call the others to action.

~^~^~

Maybe Dick going on this world-saving escapade was a bad idea. Yeah, he kicked some ass, and yeah, he was the one to actually get his hands on the device that let the world-enders of the week wreak their havoc, but he kinda feels like his legs are going to drop out from under him and it may or may not have been four days since he last slept. Sue him, it was a rogue-level _Arkham breakout._ Measures had to be taken. Caffeine pill measures.

And if those measures ended up with him more spaced out than present during the after-victory conversation with the Titans, well, it’s not like he hasn’t done worse to himself in the past.

And no, bad Dick, that’s neither a healthy nor productive way of thinking. He forces himself to focus back in on what Wally was saying, only to see that the entire circle he was in was looking at him with various concerned expressions. Wally had placed a hand on his shoulder. Huh. Dick didn’t remember that happening. 

“Dude, are you okay? We’ve been calling your name for at least a minute and a half.” He doesn’t even bother hiding the concern in his voice, which, fine, it _is_ Wally, but Dick’s torn between wanting to yell at him for putting himself in unnecessary danger during the fight, and just wanting to go eat enough carbs to kill an elephant. “How long have you even been awake?” Oh, he must have given up on reality for another second there, because Wally decided it was time to talk again. This time, Dick was pretty sure he was collected within himself enough to answer. Maybe.

Pulling one hand up to rub at his face and almost, _almost_ hitting his own nose in the process, Dick finally opens his mouth. “Since the breakout started. So… a hundred n’ twenty-six hours? Somethin’ like that.” 

Wally closes his eyes extremely pointedly, and opens them to make direct eye contact with both hands on Dick’s shoulders. “Dick. You are going to go home, and you are going to sleep. Do you need someone to be there for you?” The caring is familiar, but it still sends warmth through his chest after all these years.

“Yeah. To the manor?”

“To the manor.” In less than a second, Wally’s arms are around him in a familiar hold, and he’s being hoisted up into the air. By the time Wally sets him down on his bed in the manor, he’s asleep.

~^~^~

“Tim.” Kon takes one look at Tim after they finish the battle, and immediately goes from grinning manically as he punches villains into the ground to hovering in front of Tim and calling Cassie and Bart. 

“Yes, Kon?” He ignores the fact that he can feel the concern and disappointment in Kon’s gaze, and focuses on the wrist computer projection of the rapidly lowering energy readings in the area. 

“ _Tim._ ” And oh, this was going to be an Actual Conversation now. Tim looks up from his projection, unsurprised that Cassie and Bart are both already there. When Kon’s satisfied by the level of eye contact, he speaks again. “Tim, did you sleep at all during that breakout?”

Tim spends less than a second debating with himself before shrugging. “I got knocked out at one point. Killer Croc doesn’t exactly pull his punches.” Watching the looks going his way grow slightly darker wasn’t foreign, at this point, but the curl of uncomfortability in his gut could probably be blamed on exhaustion at this point. 

“Tim. Buddy. That started four days ago. Were you checked for a concussion?” It’s Bart that speaks this time, having appeared behind Tim’s back to place one hand down and try to guide him towards some rubble that looks vaguely chair-height. Tim doesn’t move.

A small sigh escaping his lips, Tim shakes his head and stands his ground. “Yes, it did start four days ago, and no, I’m not concussed. World ending circumstances override our protocol. I’m fine.”

Tim’s pretty sure if any of Young Justice had a say in it, he’d be at home asleep already, because even he could admit (to himself) that maybe he’s not entirely fine. Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for Tim, he thinks, Tim is technically their leader so they can’t kick him out. Probably. He notes to check if they can kick him out for lack of self care and moves on.

The next thing he knows, he’s yelping and scrambling for handholds as the ground disappears beneath him. “What the _shit_ , Kon?” From his awkward half-dangling place, he can see Cassie fly up to meet them, Bart in her arms. 

He’s shifted to a slightly more secure hold, but it’s painfully clear that if he makes a move to leave Kon’s arms or if Kon drops him, he would be in for a decidedly Not Fun Time. So they’re trying to coerce him. Threaten him? Maybe both.

“Dude, you’re even glitching. Take a nap or something.” Bart shouts at him from maybe five feet away, which is unnecessary, but Tim appreciates the effort to account for possible wind. If only there was any more than none.

“Seriously, you’re spacey and _clearly_ exhausted. You didn’t note anything from those readings until the third rotation, you’re not exactly keeping up with the field work. I could even take you over to the farm or your apartment or something if you don’t want to go back to the cave. But find _somewhere_ to go pass out.” And okay, fine, Kon might be right about the readings. But he can’t just leave-

“Nobody’ll fault you for leaving dude.” Tim immediately curses Bart and his uncanny ability to understand Tim’s anxieties.

“And if anyone does, then we’ll make sure to have a little chat.” He can almost hear the sound of Cassie’s fist hitting her palm, and as much as he wants to accept…

“Thanks guys, really, but I need to keep up on my own responsibilities.” His tone his regretful, and he _really_ can’t leave the rest of his family without warning.

“Tim, you’re _our_ responsibility, so go home and take a nap.” And Kon is _not_ allowed to make sense when Tim’s this tired anymore.

But, ever the adamant one, Tim opens his mouth to speak again. “I-“

“Tim, go _home._ ” It’s simultaneous, and manages to effectively shut Tim up. 

Heaving one last exasperated sigh, Tim accepts. “Fine, just drop me off at the nearest Zeta.”

Kon gets that manic grin on his face again, and Tim’s internal monologue consists entirely of ‘oh no’. “I can do you one better.” Tim is going to get _murdered._ “Gotham, here we _come!_ ”

~^~^~

Bruce was still fighting as his GPS reported family leaving the area. He felt like his limbs were moving like slugs, his eyes were burning with every blink, and every little noise sent waves of rage through his very _soul_ , but he was still fighting. The last of today’s havoc wreakers were still raring to go, and where evil stands, the Justice League rises to meet them. 

As one final punch sends his last opponent to the containment area, Bruce lets his shoulders slump. The past few days have been unbearably long, and he just wants to sleep for a week wherever he can find a horizontal surface. His kids might have the right idea about the floor, at this point. His wounds are throbbing, he can feel his mind succumbing to exhaustion, and he just wants to rest. For once. He should extend the protocol before the next breakout. 

Clark touches down next to him, and he immediately braces for a complaint about _something_ , even though this is _Clark_ , and he’s pretty sure Clark hasn’t complained about a thing in his life. Or maybe he just really needs to sleep. Despite all his training, it’s hard to tell. 

“Batman. I think it’s time you took a rest. You’ve had some long days.” There’s a kind pressing in his voice. 

Bruce suppresses a growl, though he’s sure Clark can hear what escapes from his throat. “I can continue.” 

“But you don’t need to. Batman, the kids you brought are already gone, you’re the only one here. Hood and Robin are home with broken bones, you’re needed there more than here.” He smiles, and lowers his voice. “Go home, Bruce, rest up. We’ll see you for the meeting next week.” He takes off, nothing but a gust of wind that aggravates the burning sensation in his eyes. 

An hour later, Bruce is pulling himself out of the Batmobile and shedding his suit. As he turns the corner to the main area of the cave, he’s met with his children, huddled together asleep and surrounded by blankets and pillows. A small smile creeps onto his face, the warmth of seeing each of his children here, _safe_ , and soon to be better rested. He moves to go past them, move up to the master bedroom and get some rest himself. 

A hand catches at his wrist, pulling down. He glances to the source, and can’t help but worry when he’s met with Jason, eyes still closed and broken leg elevated on a stack of floor pillows. “Br’ce.”

“Yeah, Jaylad?” The nickname wouldn’t fly most times, but his own exhaustion made it slip by. 

“Stay, w’ll you?” He tugs again, harder this time, and Bruce lets himself be pulled down to sit on his heels. Dick almost immediately shimmies over to throw himself over Bruce’s legs, and he supposes that’s that. He lightly lifts Dick to lay his legs down flat. Cass’ arm to pull his shoulders down onto the blanket nest isn’t unexpected, and it’s not a surprise when the rest of his children stir enough to drape themselves over one body part of his or another. 

As Alfred stands on the foot of the stairs, a dish towel drying his hands, he can’t help but smile. Maybe this way his wards would actually rest for once.

**Author's Note:**

> This,,, is not what I expected to write for sleep deprivation, but it’s what I ended up with and I don’t hate it! They deserve some fuzzies in their lives
> 
> Also, if you liked this and want to check out my bingo board or request a prompt, check out my tumblr! (I can’t get links to work because I’m on mobile and a fool but it’s still ‘gooddadstan’) don’t be afraid to just chat, too! I’m always open to talk <3


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